Let Sleeping Dragons Lie
by Thescentofmoonlight
Summary: Anduin and Wrathion have sex. Some funny stuff happens at the beginning and end. This kind of contains somnophilia/slight consent issues but not really, and I suppose Wrathion is sort of underage but also not really I don't know. Anyway, read this if you want to read about guys shagging I guess. One-shot.


**A.N. **This is pretty much just porn. It was always going to be, but I didn't expect it to turn out as long as it did. My boyfriend loves this pairing so he was nagging me to write it, despite being totally straight (lolnope). He'll probably get me to write more, too, so yeah.

The sun beamed in through the bedroom window of the Tavern in the Mists. Owing to literary convention, it hit Anduin right in the face, and woke him with a start. The first thing he noticed was that the light was hurting his eyes. The second thing was a slender arm around him. Apparently Wrathion had got bored of being a very small dragon, and turned into his more sizeable human form. Why spooning Anduin was a necessary part of this set-up remained a mystery, and the priest was rather wishing he'd move. Something was digging into his thigh, which made him feel odd and slightly embarrassed. Thankfully he could wriggle away without too much difficulty. Wrathion mumbled and rolled on to his front, which can't have been comfortable, and Anduin was free to continue with his day.

The next day started in pretty much the same way. As did the next. And the next, at which point it seemed prudent to say something.  
"Wrathion, could you please stay in your dragon form if you insist on sharing my bed? It's getting awkward, and sooner or later someone will walk in and decide to spread rumours or something." He frowned slightly while speaking, and couldn't look his friend in the eye.

"Why, do you feel a bit short of space? I think I'm a better bedwarmer in this form, and being able to hold you is oddly comforting." The look Wrathion shot Anduin over the game table was as sharp as his teeth, which were made visible by a wry grin.

"I don't need a bedwarmer, nor do I want to be held. Just think what my father- or your guards- would say!"

"They can say what they like. Both our guards suspect there's something... illicit between us anyway, and I believe a few of them encourage it. Think we'd be good for each other, while apparently ignoring the fact we do each other a lot of good as friends."

"Wha- No they don't! Anyway, you need to stop _cuddling_ me every night. It would be bad enough if I wasn't waking up to your... member... digging in to me, but really _that _is a bridge too far-!" He shut up, blushing furiously. Wrathion seemed on the verge of laughter.

"I can't help that, I'm afraid. It's a biological habit, and happens to pretty much every male of our age. You included... Don't ask how I know." He winked.

"I think I'll tell myself you know through deductive reasoning. You could help it by either switching beds or remaining as a whelp, because frankly it's very irritating."

"Yeah, you're meant to use oil to reduce irritation."

"... Are you trying to flirt with me? Because you're not very good at it!" The guards, sitting behind them, caught the raised tone and glanced over. They'd heard every word of course, but took the diplomatic stance of pretending they hadn't.

"Me? A flirt? Don't be ridiculous. It's merely my natural charm. If you're seeing it as flirtation, your own mind can be the only one to blame."

"You know you get more eloquent when you lie, right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Later that day, two things of note happened. The first was that Anduin found a small bottle of some sort of oil on his bedside table, which he blamed Wrathion for. The other was that he at long last got revenge for some ridiculous idea of a joke his wayward friend had had a while ago, namely stealing his clothes while he was bathing. Rather than being imaginative, he simply retaliated in kind, and was currently having great fun parading around in His Majesty's ridiculous baggy trousers and unravelling turban. At this point, the door flew open in a flurry of anger and water droplets. Wrathion stood in the doorway, a towel round his waist, hair swirling round his ankles, and his eyes burning in a way which was indicative either of fury or mischief. Both were terrifying, although Anduin's attention was more taken by the surprisingly toned chest, tapering to a neat waist, with a trail of dark hair leading in to the towel. He pulled his gaze upwards, glanced at the ceiling, and laughed a little nervously.

"Anduin Wrynn, you give me one good reason why I shouldn't tie you up with my turban and set your hair alight."

"Uh... Because your hair would be better for tying? Sorry. Sorry. That's a bad reason. Hm.. Because it's rude and I let you get away with all sorts of nonsense."

Wrathion laughed.  
"That's good enough! So, can I have my clothes back, or will I have to sleep like this?"

"If you intend to stay human, you can sleep somewhere else."

"You can't make me. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like my trousers back."

"They're comfortable. I think I'll keep them on. Now if you'll excuse _me_, I'm getting into _my _bed."

"Alright." Wrathion stood there silently for a few minutes, while Anduin stripped down to oversized trousers and got in to bed, and then hung his towel by the fire and got in with him. This was met with no argument, perhaps because the only person in any place to argue was too shocked at the large amount of bare skin suddenly touching his back. And chest. And shoulders, neck, legs... Dragons are notoriously bad at personal space, but this was ridiculous. He was thankful that it wasn't morning, or any other time in which young men are likely to be aroused, because he probably would have blushed so hard he damaged a blood vessel, if that were possible. Staunchly ignoring the bottle of oil on the table, the hot breath on his neck, and anything else which would suggest impure thoughts, Anduin tried to sleep.

An hour later, he was still wide awake, and either the gentle curves of his body were more appealing than he'd previously realised or Wrathion was having a very interesting dream, because once again he could feel what was obviously an erection pressing into him, and strong dark arms were preventing his escape. He moved them gently, as to not wake his fellow prince, and slid nearer to the edge of the bed, relishing the coolness despite the tingle of heat tracing from his neck to his tailbone. Damned naked men being all well-built and irritatingly close...

Anduin sighed, and wondered why there was oil three inches from his head anyway. Presumably Wrathion had put it there, but was that because he was taking the piss, as the uncouth sort of Gilnean would doubtless put it (Gilneans are the best for cursing), or was it a suggestion? Could it be? Why would it? And even if it was, he wasn't going to go along with it out of the blue in the middle of the night- or at any point! It would be utterly ridiculous! He _wasn't_.

Wrathion's eyes had cracked open when Anduin has moved away from him, and now they saw the young man's head hit the pillow in what looked very much to him like conflicted frustration. He smiled, knowing how to solve this conflict. He sighed softly, under the pretence of having some pleasurable dream. Which was near enough true, as he was currently having some pleasurable thoughts about what was likely to happen in the immediate future.

The sigh reverbrated slightly through the room, and sent odd shivers up Anduin's spine. He couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to... to impale himself on Wrathion. He knew what it was like to use his fingers, of course, but this would be rather more interesting, and possibly either painful or pleasurable on an unprecedented level. Or both. He realised with a jolt that his main concern had become, not that he was thinking of sodomising himself with the aid of the son of the Worldbreaker, but how he would do it without waking him up. He considered for a moment forgetting the whole thing and going to sleep, but his determination to do something daring was backed up by his cock, and the support was getting stronger with every wild speculation that bothered to rush through his head.

The best course of action was presumably to go slowly and gently, making sure he was well-prepared and fully relaxed, like it said in the books he'd found in the library. Not that he read them for any reason other than boredom. He certainly never took out a particularly detailed one about two young men in a secret relationship, and their encounters... Nor spent a long cold night reading it, finding warmth and comfort in the words and his hands... Anyway, he'd learned a few things about the proper way for men to fornicate, not that he'd ever thought he'd need the information.

With this in mind, Anduin reached for the oil, pouring some on his fingers and rubbing them together. The ridiculous trousers were discarded hurriedly, as were his inhibitions.  
"Light, it's been a while." he thought, pressing one to his entrance and letting it slowly push into him. He'd forgotten how strange it was, and how good it could be if his arm would just co-operate and let him go slightly deeper- "Oh-!" the sentence ended almost before it began, with the aid of a mouthful of pillow. He continued, careful to be quiet, filling himself slowly more and more as he became more relaxed, hungrier for pleasure. After a few minutes he was as ready as he could get, and grabbed some more oil for his bedmate.

Wrathion squeezed his eyes shut and fought to not react, as Anduin started to rub cold oil over his length. Damn, that was good, especially after however many days it had been since he'd got round to pleasuring himself. For his part, the priest was rather enjoying the feeling of someone else's cock in his hand. It was hot, more so than any other part of either of them, and very hard. He shut his eyes, and rolled over so he was facing away from the Black Prince. Now for the difficult part. He shuffled backwards, steadying his target with one hand, and slowly impaled himself. The blond grinned, feeling a thrill of success, followed by a larger one of pleasure, and a touch of pain, as the thickest part of the head entered him. He moved the hand which had been holding Wrathion's cock to his own, swallowing a soft moan.

Anduin grabbed the pillow with his free hand and bit his lip, pushing back a little faster than he'd meant to. He felt heat and pressure inside him, and adjusted his hips slightly, causing Wrathion to rub against his prostate. He repeated the motion a few times, experimentally, and was starting to enjoy the intense, almost electric sensation, especially in conjunction with the burning pleasure his hand was providing. But good things never last, and just when he thought he could get himself off from this, go back to sleep, and hopefully never think of it again, all without waking Wrathion, when a groan sounded from the vicinity of the back of his head, and a sudden burst of sleepy movement rolled him on to his front.

Anduin's eyes widened, from shock and the feeling of being filled even more, thanks to gravity. Fuck, had he woken up? No. He hadn't, Light be praised, but this still a predicament, namely that of being stuck under a large dragon boy. Who was now almost imperceptibly thrusting into him, to greater effect than was remotely fair. Wrathion was as deep as he could get, which was... Well, pretty incredible, and Anduin's cock was trapped between his abdomen and his hand, which was intense in a way that nearly hurt. Nearly, but not quite. Instead it was good, so damned good, and he didn't think he could stay silent if Wrathion took it into his head to be a bit more active...

He did. The dragon prince backed up slightly, then pushed back in with a breathy moan in Anduin's ear, starting to rock his hips back and forth just hard enough to make the old bed creak slightly, and make the young prince moan softly. He bit into the pillow to try and silence himself, and not be overwhelmed by the fact that he was now being actively fucked, his cock was being forced to rub against his hand, and the weight of Wrathion on top of him made him feel almost like he was owned, like he was _his_, and that was almost as much of a turn-on as the sex itself. That was a bit worrying, he'd have to look into it later. But not now, when he could hardly think from the effort of staying silent, staying still, not pushing back or taking hold of the waterfalls of hair that were apparently all over the place, just lying there and waiting for the weight to shift enought that he can move without waking him.

This apparently wasn't going to happen. Wrathion was moving increasingly faster, harder, rougher, and Anduin was shaking now, moaning as quietly as he could, and fighting the dawning realisation that he was going to come quite soon if he didn't do something. At least, something other than all the things his body was telling him to do, such as push against the firey man behind him, scream his name, or fuck his own hand. All of which seemed like rather good ideas to all but the most rational areas of his brain... But he mustn't, because coming like this, without control or restraint, would be both humiliating and likely to startle Wrathion into conciousness, if he wasn't already concious... Wait, was that his mouth-

"Ah!" Anduin cried out, as Wrathion's sharp teeth sunk into his shoulder. That honestly shouldn't have felt good, but the faint burn just melted in to all the other sensations, and it was wonderful. He whimpered, uncounsciously arching his back to make his arse more accessible. He felt a hand at his hip, catching the bone and holding him in place to be filled, fucked, used... Fel, why did he like being treated like some harlot so much?

Wrathion grinned into Anduin's shoulder, enjoying the feeling of soft skin and firm muscle under him, and the knowledge that he had an entirely willing body that he could ravage to his heart's content... And it was an excellent body to fuck. He was ridiculously tight, and his moans were exquisite. And that soft blond hair of his was just made to be pulled... He decided to indulge himself, and grabbed a handful, tugging hard. Anduin cried out, and Wrathion gripped even tighter as he felt a shiver run through the man beneath him. He really wasn't going to last long, and hoped very much that he wasn't the only one. That would be embarassing.

He was not. Anduin was moaning desperately, as quietly as he could, and twitching his hips backwards and forwards in spasms of pleasure. This may have been an utter disaster, but he couldn't help but enjoy it. The sensation of seemingly every nerve in his arse lighting up simultaneously contrived to make him writhe and bite his tongue in an effort not to scream. He was going to come soon, which would be awful for both the sheets and his dignity, as well as his chances of being undetected by Wrathion. Not that he wanted him to stay ignorant of this sort of liason being available, as it was turning into the most pleasurable thing he'd experience. Just the feeling of being filled, of his ass being stretched and his prostate slammed into, was enough to make him faint. The addition of a lithe, probably-awake figure draped on his back added to the appeal, especially since the figure was the Black Prince himself, who had seemed alluring for a long time, but he hadn't allowed himself to be drawn to that allure.

And the teeth, the hair, the nails digging in to his skin! It was incredible, and he needed it, he needed to be hurt and owned, impaled with Wrathion's cock and teeth and anything he saw fit, because it felt so fucking good to be taken like this, and so fucking good to not have to pretend he didn't love being weak, for once, sheltered and protected but not constrained, not stopped from expressing his emotions freely, of pleasure, and maybe, just maybe, love. He delved into the sensation, and let himself go wild, bucking madly and edging closer and closer to release.

But his lover was closer than him, and couldn't keep going. He yelled, lucidly enough to make it obvious that he was awake, and came hard into his helpless fucktoy. Apparently dragon orgasms are different to human ones, because Wrathion kept going, causing come to overflow and spill down Anduin's slim thighs, and making his sensitive hole burn with now-excessive pleasure, heat and light and sheer arousal colliding around him.

He was getting far too close now, and somehow his friend didn't stop through his orgasm, instead continuing to drive in to him mercilessly, now cursing constantly and going hard enough to make a lesser man scream. The priest merely begged, silently, for just that little bit more to push him over the edge. And when it came, he was no longer silent.

"Oh... Oh... Oh light, oh fuck, oh _Wrathion..._" He called out as softly as he could, twitching around his lover's sensitive, softening cock, making him draw scratches in his side, and coming over his hand and the sheets, before sinking into a whimpering mound. The dragon gave him a few more firm thrusts, just to get a scream, and pulled out panting. Gods, he needed to have that more often. At least, if Anduin has enjoyed it as much as he'd seemed to. And Wrathion got the feeling he enjoyed it very much, despite it not going quite to plan.

They both fell on to their sides, curled up together stickily. Both of them felt like they ought to clean up a little, but a good orgasm tends to kill one's drive to get out of a warm bed and fetch water. Instead, silently, they fell asleep.

The next morning...

The sun beamed in through the bedroom window of the Tavern in the Mists. Owing to literary convention, it hit Anduin right in the face, and woke him with a start. The first thing he noticed was that the light was hurting his eyes. The second thing was a slender arm around him. The third, however, was an absence of anything poking him. And that his legs were stuck together. He should probably go and have a bath, and maybe shove the sheets into the washing bowl before anyone else came and cleaned up... This train of thought was broken by Wrathion nuzzling his neck, and wishing him good morning. He felt much the same as the previous day, but the feeling in the air had changed a little. Less tense, warmer. Maybe he'd stay in bed a little longer, just this once.

Later that day...

One of the Blacktalon guards wandered nonchalantly in to her charge's room, looking around. Just as she'd thought, the oil she'd put on the bedside table was half-gone. Someone owed her a drink...


End file.
